


QPR by Accident

by INeverHadMyInternetPhase



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7428208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeverHadMyInternetPhase/pseuds/INeverHadMyInternetPhase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan and Phil stumble across the definition of a queerplatonic relationship online, and realise that’s basically what they already are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	QPR by Accident

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up in completely fluffy aro mode this morning, so this fic happened. Also when I showed my ideas list to my bestie this is one she wanted me to write, so that’s another reason. Here ya go, have some queerplatonic phan fluff ^_^
> 
> Warnings: a tiny amount of swearing, hints of aromanticism if you squint (not that this is a warning but idk where else to put it ^_^)
> 
> Articles used will be at the end of the fic.
> 
> Reminder that I don't know Dan or Phil at all and this is a work of fiction that in no way reflects reality ^_^

“Phil.”

Dan’s voice from the doorway to the lounge wasn’t really a surprise, and nor was the way Phil immediately dropped what he was doing and made room on the sofa. He’d known to expect a conversation like this sooner or later – ever since the night before, when Dan had stayed in the lounge on some sort of Wikipedia odyssey, muttering a distant affirmation when Phil told him he was heading to bed and gently reminded Dan that he might want to take refuge in his own room, too. But when Phil had resurfaced at four in the morning to get a warm glass of milk, the dull glow of Dan’s laptop had still echoed from the living room.

So it was going to be one of _those_ times.

Phil wasted no time in leaning into Dan as soon as he’d settled himself onto the sofa beside him, back against Dan’s side, legs up on the cushions. Dan relaxed into the familiar touch. Whatever it was that was troubling this time had left dark circles under his eyes and a tired crease in the centre of his brow.

“What’s up?” Phil prompted after a minute – usually, Dan didn’t need anything other than a comforting silence to talk into.

All he got out of Dan was a heavy sigh and a bit of shifting around until Dan gripped Phil’s arm, his fingers tight and a little painful. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Phil eyed him closely. “You _do_ look a bit peaky.”

“Hey! Rude.” Dan shoved him, which was actually a little uncomfortable, considering how much Phil liked leaning into Dan. And Dan knew this. How rude of him. “I didn’t mean like that, anyway.”

“So what did you mean?” Phil placed his laptop down on the ground and turned to properly face Dan, assuming this would be one of their more important conversations. And according to the rather dismal look on Dan’s face, he’d predicted correctly.

Dan slumped down on the sofa, his tone morose. “Phil, how would you describe our relationship?”

Phil blinked at him. Uncertainly, he answered, “You – you’re my best friend?”

“Well, obviously.” Dan chewed his lip, staring down at the floor.

Phil tilted his head. “Yes. It _is_ obvious. So why did you ask?”

“Is that all we are?” Dan asked abruptly.

Phil narrowed his eyes. “There’s no _all_ about it.”

“No, I know, actually it’s the most important thing to me.”

“Me, too.”

Dan allowed a small smile to twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it got bitten away again quickly. “I don’t think I want to date anyone.”

Phil sat up a little straighter. _That_ came out of nowhere.

“I just mean,” Dan spoke into the silence, still staring resolutely at the floor, “That I don’t know exactly what more I’d get. Out of dating someone.”

Phil tilted his head, curious. “What have you been googling, to get you on this track?”

“How do you know I’ve been googling…?”

“Dan, you spent the entire night on your laptop, you were either on a google adventure or catfishing people for fun again.”

“That was _one time,_ ” Dan insisted hotly, “And it was research, as you well know.”

“Yeah, just like reading the phanfiction was _research_ …”

“It was, and I’ve caught you reading it too!” Dan lifted a finger. “Anyway, rabbit hole. And beside the point.”

Phil agreed, although he couldn’t stop himself from smirking a little bit longer. Dan just looked so _affronted,_ and to be honest, a small, wicked part of Phil enjoyed that look far more than he should. He settled himself a little more comfortably, sitting cross-legged facing Dan, and gestured for him to continue.

Dan played with the threads of their sofa, staring down at his fingers. “I was reading something on the internet –“

“I _knew_ you were googling!”

“Now really isn’t the time for celebration, Phil,” Dan told him sternly. He was still refusing to look up, but Phil could still read his body language well enough – close to seven years of knowing someone meant you got to know their little habits better than you knew your own. Phil was almost at the point where he could much more easily tell when Dan was upset than when he himself was.

That was probably a problem.

“This is _serious,”_ Dan was continuing in a low voice.

Phil bit back the urge to smile, finally taking this seriously. He leaned a little closer, reaching out to still Dan’s fingers before he risked picking another hole in their sofa cushion. “Alright, ok, I’m listening. What is it?”

Dan, typically, didn’t answer straight away. His shoulders were tense, his chest rising and falling a little more rapidly than normal. Phil studied the way Dan’s brow was creased, and his fringe was pushed back off his forehead as he apparently gathered his thoughts together.

Eventually, Dan took in a breath and said all in a rush, “Ok, so, you’d define our relationship as platonic, right?”

Phil blinked.

“I mean,” Dan was hastily continuing before Phil even had a chance to construct a response, “It isn’t _romantic,_ right? We aren’t, we’ve never been _romantic_. Have we?”

The words sat heavily between them, and although Phil wasn’t exactly bothered, he was certainly _surprised._ He and Dan had never expressly had this conversation before, but he was certain they’d always been on the same page. They’d never been traditionally _romantic._ Right from their very first meeting, when they’d clung to each other and hugged and occasionally held hands, it was very clearly nothing as messy and constructed as _romantic._ No, what they had was much more easy and natural than that.

“I mean,” Phil started stupidly, pausing to think for a moment before he spoke.

Dan was staring at him with something close to panic on his features. “Go on. Please.”

“Just give me a second to get my thoughts together.”

Dan nodded, remaining blissfully silent despite his very obvious edginess. Luckily, Phil was blessed with a roommate that understood that he needed thinking time before he could address any conversation that dealt with feelings, bills, careers, or anything remotely adult and important.

“We’re not romantic,” Phil said eventually. “At least, I hope we’re not? I don’t think we need any of that nonsense.”

Dan gave him a long, considering look. The silence felt heavy, in which Phil started to quietly panic that he’d said the wrong thing – that maybe this entire conversation was Dan’s way of declaring seven years of unrequited love, and the fact that Phil didn’t quite return it in _that_ way meant he’d have to start looking for a new flatmate soon.

But then Dan was speaking again. “No, good. That’s what I think too.”

Phil let out a breath.

“But,” Dan continued, and he was back to looking steadfastly at the sofa. Unusual – Phil was used to having Dan looking at him for the majority of their life together. “We’re not _just friends,_ are we.”

The way Dan said that made it into a statement, not a question. _We’re not just friends._ And, despite never thinking of it in those terms before, Phil found himself in easy agreement. Of course friendship wasn’t quite right to describe what he had with Dan. Friendship implied a sort of casual nature – a distance that he’d just never had with Dan.

“No,” Phil agreed after another moment of thinking. “Dan, there’s nothing _just_ about us.”

Seemingly unwillingly, a smile twitched the corner of Dan’s lips. He nodded. “Yeah, see, again, that’s what I think too.”

Phil tilted his head. “So if we agree, why are we having this conversation?”

“Because it’s _important_.”

“We’ve never spoken about this before.”

“That’s because I didn’t _realise_ …” Dan broke off, biting his lower lip. He looked a bit lost. Phil gave him time, recognising the slightly panicked look in Dan’s eyes – he expected an impending explanation, once Dan had gathered himself enough to continue.

“Can I just try something for a second?” Dan asked. “It won’t take long – I promise – but there’s some things I really really want for us to clear up.”

“Is it important to you?”

“Yeah. Actually, it _really_ is.”

“Of course, then,” Phil encouraged with a small smile. “You know you always have my time when there’s something you want to talk through.”

He was rewarded with another small smile from Dan, peeked out from underneath his fringe. “Alright, gimme a sec then.”

Phil nodded. He watched as Dan tugged his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans, but couldn’t resist clicking his tongue and saying, “You’ll burn your butt if you do that too much.”

“And where is your phone right now, Phil?” Dan didn’t even bother looking up.

“I don’t put mine there!” Phil shifted in his seat, reaching for his back pocket in defiance. “Mine’s safely somewhere in my room – see – not here!”

“Does that mean you’ve lost it?”

“Maybe _temporarily misplaced_ is a better term.”

“You are _hopeless._ ” Dan said the words with affection, still focused on his screen. “I’ll call it for you later. Right. Ok. So some things to discuss.”

“At your attention, Captain Howell.”

Dan tried, and failed, to look exasperated. He placed his phone safely down by his knee, shifting to sit cross-legged, mirroring Phil. He kept the screen tilted away from Phil, though, and Phil respected his obvious desire not to look at the screen.

“So,” Dan started, and he was back to studying the sofa cushions rather than looking directly at Phil. “We’re not just friends.”

“No,” Phil readily agreed. “I mean, we _are_ friends, absolutely. You’re my bffl, and all that.”

“Yeah, of course, I just—” Dan gnawed on his lower lip. “I don’t think that’s _enough_.”

“If you want more out of life, Dan, you know I wouldn’t stop you.”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” Dan let out a soft, frustrated noise. “I can’t think of anything else adding up to _more._ This is the best thing – the thing I have with you.”

Phil smiled widely. He allowed a soft sense of pride to swell within him – Dan was important, the most important person to him, actually. He was always pleased to know his efforts to make Dan’s life a little better were paying off.

“Alright,” Dan muttered to himself, studying his screen again. “Let’s try something else. Would you say we’re committed to each other?”

Phil raised a brow. “Dan. Seriously?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Dan answered defensively. “ _Are_ we?”

“Dan, we have two joint bank accounts and a channel together. That’s practically marriage in the YouTuber world.”

Dan spluttered.

“Never mind the fact we’ve lived together for – what – four years?” Phil’s nose wrinkled thoughtfully. “Closer to five, if you count when you were at uni and spent more time on my sofa than in your own actual bed.”

“You loved it,” Dan huffed, still spluttering. “You were going even more insane locked up in that tiny place on your own.”

“Yes, ok—”

“Pretty sure you hallucinated me being there more than I actually was, anyway.”

“Impossible,” Phil disagreed with a smirk, “You were there like every night, being all sad and needy.”

“I was not _needy_ —”

“Oh come on, yes you were.”

“I was _not._ ” Dan huffed, straightening his back. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

Phil was grinning at him. “I think it proves that _of course_ we’re committed to each other, you idiot.”

“Oh.” Dan allowed himself a prim nod. “Good.”

“You shouldn’t have even needed to ask that, it’s obvious to literally everybody.”

“Right.” Dan was fighting back a smile as he grabbed for his phone again, and Phil allowed himself another small swell of pride. “Well. Ok. If you’re done being a little shit, let’s carry on.”

“Have you got some kind of list-to-define-relationships there?” Phil asked, curiously attempting to catch a glimpse of Dan’s phone.

Dan clutched the screen to his chest, tapping his nose slyly. “Close, but no. Next question. Would you say we have a _strong bond_?”

“Oh, no, definitely not. I don’t know you at _all,_ Dan.”

Dan sent him an unimpressed stare.

“It’s not like you can name every single one of my aunts, or I know the exact size of shoe you take, or the number of times I’ve saved you from falling over because you stand up too quick…”

“Yes, yes, ok.” Dan was fighting back a smile again.

Phil grinned at him. “Safe to say we do. I don’t give just _anyone_ access to my passwords.”

“Yeah, I could delete your entire YouTube channel.”

“All of our subscribers would scream at you,” Phil shrugged, “And besides, what you watch on lonely nights when I’m on holiday?”

Dan lowered his phone to glare at Phil, but there was still an upward twitch to the corners of his mouth. Phil recognised the look all too well – it was the same one Dan sent him on the numerous occasions where he said something too silly to be real. Occasionally, the fans misconstrued it as ‘Heart-eyes Howell’.

Or maybe they weren’t too far-off.

“Ok,” Dan continued, choosing wisely to ignore Phil’s last comment. “At the risk of getting soppy – don’t slobber on me for this, Lester – do we love each other?”

Phil was startled for half-a-second. But then he saw the way Dan’s fingers were still clenching in the sofa, and the way Dan’s shoulders were still tense and hunched, and he let out a small laugh. “Do you _really_ still doubt that?”

“Shut up,” Dan scoffed, but the spot by his freckles was slowly turning red.

“You’re an idiot. Of _course_ I love you.”

Dan squirmed happily.

“And I know you love me too,” Phil added, “Because there’s no way anyone else would humour you for this long without having a clue what this conversation is even about, and you really owe me for it.”

“I mean, I guess I don’t hate you,” Dan admitted after a minute.

“Wow, you’re really making me feel good there.”

“Well, that is my job.” Dan glanced down at his phone, suppressing a smile. “Which leads quite neatly onto the next question – emotional commitment.”

Phil leaned a little closer, peering closely at Dan. “That isn’t a question.”

“I’m well aware of that, Phil, amazingly.” Dan looked up from the screen, keeping it pressed tight to his chest. Phil was beginning to really wonder what on earth he was reading from. Dan was annoyingly good at keeping secrets, though – even though they never lasted long under Phil’s persistent questioning. Phil was happy enough to play along for now, though, guessing that Dan would get to the point eventually. He just liked to ramble first.

“I think what it’s saying,” Dan said after a moment of reading through the screen, “Is that we should be emotionally committed to each other.”

“What does that mean?”

Dan pursed his lips. “Like, we should rely on each other, I guess? And be dependent – not to like, dangerous levels, but we should miss each other when we’re apart, want to share things, want to see each other on a regular basis. That kind of stuff.”

Phil smiled. “I think I can safely say yes to all those things. You?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Dan scanned his phone again, tone thoughtful. “You’ve seen what a mess I am when you go on holiday. And I’ve seen the state of the flat when I come home from a day leaving you alone.”

“I am not _that_ bad,” Phil muttered defensively.

“Two words, Phil. Cactus. Drawer.”

“I was _tired._ ”

“And I should clearly never leave you alone.” Dan’s lips quirked up slightly, almost a smile but not his usual giant, crinkly-eyed grin. “But yeah, I’d say we’re emotionally committed – I mean – if you agree.”

Phil thought about it for a little while longer, leaning back on his hands to better survey Dan. It was true that he missed Dan when they were apart – perhaps more than he was willing to admit to himself, for fear of having to _analyse_ himself. Phil wasn’t much of a one for introspection, preferring to float along when he was happy. Then there was the fact that Phil was largely incapable of making a career decision without running it by Dan first, whether it involved them jointly or not. When the BBC had first got in touch, it had just been with Phil, but Phil had been far too afraid to do anything by himself and immediately asked if Dan could come along with him. To him, they’d always come as a duo.

It seemed that was true for Dan, as well. Even if it hadn’t always been, it was now.

“I agree,” Phil answered after a long, considering look at Dan. This silly boy who had grown into a young man in front of his eyes, and was somehow taller and stronger and better than him at life now. “I mean, I’d say we rely on each other. I know I certainly rely on you.”

Dan met his eyes then, a slow smile reaching his lips. “I could make so many jokes about how that’s because you’re useless at being an adult—”

“Thanks.”

“—But honestly, I rely on you, too.” Dan was still looking at Phil, his expression soft and fond, and Phil melted just a little. “So I guess we’re even.”

“We’re always even,” Phil agreed. He reached out and poked Dan in the cheek.

Dan’s face scrunched up and he leaned back, irritably grunting, “You’re the _worst_ ,” despite the smile that graced his lips.

Phil just grinned wickedly.

“Right. Onwards, then.” Dan lifted his phone again, eyeing the screen with slight trepidation. “We’re getting near the end.”

“The end of _what_?” Phil tucked his feet under his legs, shifting to get more comfortable. “I still have no idea what this is about.”

“All in good time. I have to check a couple more things first.”

Phil bit his tongue, gesturing for Dan to go ahead.

“Right. Just a couple more things.” Dan drew in a steadying breath, bracing his fingers on the sofa cushions again. He was dodging Phil’s gaze as he spoke. “Do you think we – um – ok.” He paused for a moment, the fingers of his free hand curling into a fist.

Phil leaned closer and covered Dan’s hand with his own. “You’re destroying the sofa.”

“Sorry.” Dan immediately retracted his hand.

Phil waved him away. He was regarding Dan with no small amount of concern, noting the tense way he sat hunched over, how he refused to lift his gaze from his phone screen. “Dan, we really don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want us to.”

Dan shook his head determinedly. “It’s important.”

“If you say so?”

“Honestly, Phil.” Dan took in another breath. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. We need to iron this out.”

Phil nodded a little helplessly. It was sort of hard to judge when he didn’t even know _what_ Dan had read, but if it was this important to him, then it was without question worth continuing. Even if Dan did look a little like he was ready to bolt for the window at any moment.

“Ok,” Dan mumbled to himself, straightening his back. He was still resolutely avoiding Phil’s gaze. “This one might come out a little weird, so I’m just gonna go ahead and say it.”

“Ok?” Phil made a show of sitting up and listening, not that Dan was looking at him.

Dan opened his mouth, closed it again, bit his lip, and then said all in a rush, “How would you describe the _intensity and significance_ of our emotional connection?”

Phil let out a surprised breath. “What on earth are you _reading_?”

“I warned you,” Dan mumbled, still staring down at the sofa. “I warned you it would sound a little weird.”

“Alright, well,” Phil shook his head, taking another moment to think things through before he spoke. It would be all too easy to rush and say the wrong thing and accidentally offend Dan, when that was the last thing in the world Phil wanted to do. “I honestly don’t know where all this sudden evaluation has come from, Dan.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Dan’s mumbling was so low that Phil had to lean closer to catch his words. “I’m sorry, I will explain, it’s just – could you – could you just answer for now, anyway?”

“You know I will.” Phil leaned back a bit, once again surveying Dan. His long limbs were folded up ridiculously small on the sofa, and all Phil was really getting was a good view of the top of his head. His hair was straightened to perfection, as per usual. He was warm and light and familiar in the midst of this rather odd conversation, and helped Phil to settle enough to gather his thoughts.

“I mean,” Phil began slowly, “Honestly, Dan, if you don’t know how important you are to me by now, then I’ve been failing miserably all these years.”

Dan’s face shot up to finally meet Phil’s gaze again.

“You said _intensity and significance,_ right?” Phil clarified, and at Dan’s nod he continued slowly, “I mean, I’ve never had such an intense and significant relationship with anyone, other than you. It’s getting to the point where I feel weird doing something without you. I think that says a lot, don’t you?”

Dan seemed to consider that for a long time. The silence weighed heavily for both of them, but Phil in particular felt it rubbing at his raw edges. He felt exposed; vulnerable. He wasn’t _uncomfortable_ with talking about this – honestly, he and Dan were more open than most when they talked about each other. They were constantly on the same wavelength. Despite that, Phil was feeling a little bit raw at having to expose so much of his innermost feelings. He usually much preferred to keep them safely wrapped in cotton wool.

Dan’s face was slowly warming up, though, and a little smile was playing about his lips. Phil felt himself relax instantly.

“Yeah, you put it into words then, didn’t you?” Dan murmured. “That’s exactly it. I feel weird doing stuff without you, I keep turning around and expecting you to be there. It’s weird when you’re not.”

“I know,” Phil agreed. “Like looking down and realising I’ve lost my feet.”

Dan snorted slightly, but he was properly grinning when he looked back up to meet Phil’s gaze. “That’s probably a dangerous level of co-dependency.”

“It works, right?” Phil shrugged, and he was rewarded by another Dan-grin. The atmosphere settled around them again, enveloping them both in their own little world. It was easy to forget life outside their apartment when they had moments like this.

A few seconds later, Dan turned back to his phone. His expression was a mixed mess, but his tone was carefully neutral as he said, “Right, well. Just one more thing to check, then.”

“Hit me.” Phil settled himself comfortably on the sofa.

Dan took in a breath. He glanced once at the screen, but then placed his phone back down on the cushion in favour of looking straight at Phil. Phil was almost floored by the intensity of his gaze. “So, Philip Lester. Would you say our relationship is meaningful, committed, and intimate?”

Phil blinked. “I mean, I’m a little nervous at how much those sound like marriage vows.”

Dan whacked him with a cushion, and Phil yelped, rubbing his arm instinctively. Dan chuckled.

“I hate you,” Phil griped, but Dan just laughed a little louder.

“In answer to your question,” Phil pursed his lips, leaning his chin on one hand. “I think – I mean – you could describe us that way, I guess?”

Dan sent him a long, considering look. “You think so?”

“I mean, probably?” Phil half-shrugged, still thinking. “I mean, our friendship is pretty meaningful. We’ve already gone over how we’re committed. As for intimate…”

Dan’s nose wrinkled a bit. “That’s the one that gets me.”

“I mean,” Phil narrowed his eyes. “We kind of are? I suppose?”

Dan nodded, biting back a smile. “You could say that. Considering I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve fallen asleep in my bed, or vice-versa.”

“True.”

“And how often you just cling onto me randomly.”

“Hey,” Phil held up a hand, “That isn’t _just_ me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Remember ‘ _The Blair Witch Project_ ’?”

“Horror films do not count,” Dan argued, “I was _scared_. Using you as a human shield does not count as cuddling.”

“Oh?” Phil arched a brow. “What about _‘The Fault in our Stars’,_ then?”

Dan spluttered. “Same principle!”

“You were burrowing in my chest because you were crying over their lost love, Dan.” Phil couldn’t resist a slight smirk. “Tell me exactly what isn’t _intimate_ about that.”

Dan’s spluttering intensified. After several seconds of trying – and failing – to come up with a good response, Dan simply gave up with a huff. “Ok. So maybe you have a point there.”

Phil gave a proud nod. “Never mind the fact that you’re wearing my hoody right now.”

“Am I?” Dan glanced down at himself, arching a slightly surprised brow when he saw he was indeed wearing an old top of Phil’s. “Oh. Oops.”

Phil shook his head, but he was wearing a soft smile.

“That’s another point, isn’t it,” Dan mused thoughtfully. “I’ve kind of lost track of which clothes were yours originally, and which ones were mine that you’ve appropriated.”

Phil nodded. “Never mind the fact that we pack together if we’re going somewhere.”

“Well, that’s different, it’s just more convenient.” Dan shrugged. “We use the same of everything.”

“ _Exactly,”_ Phil pointed out. “ _Intimate._ ”

Dan blinked. He considered that for a moment, glanced back down at his phone screen, and then looked back at Phil. “Well, fuck,” he said casually.

Phil arched a brow. “Did we reach the end of your list?”

“It wasn’t a list,” Dan clarified, staring back at his phone, “But yeah. No more questions.”

“Ok. Am I allowed to know what it was about now?”

“ _Well._ ” Dan was steadfastly avoiding Phil’s gaze again, glancing down at his feet instead. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“I expect nothing less from you.”

“Rude.” Dan peeked up at Phil through his fringe, suddenly looking nervous. “Really, though. I didn’t exactly plan this.”

Phil quirked a brow. “Ok…?”

“Yeah.” Dan glanced back down, slumping against the sofa cushions with a gusty sigh. “I was just – I was lurking on tumblr, you know, spying on some fans, and one of them posted something I’d never really heard of before.”

“Oh?” Phil leaned forwards a little. “You know to always be wary with what they say.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but this was _different._ ” Dan’s tone was earnest. “They said it was about their personal identity – and then just mentioned that it made them think of us, too, though they stressed that they didn’t know anything about us. But anyway. It made me curious, so I clicked on it.”

“Ok, I’m with you so far,” Phil pressed. “What was it?”

Dan bit his lip. He held his phone out towards Phil.

Phil took the phone without question. He glanced down to see that Dan had safari open to an article. He frowned at the title. “Queerplatonic relationship?”

Dan was watching Phil intently. “Yeah.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d never heard of it, either.” Dan leaned forward a little, studying Phil’s expression. “Apparently it’s a thing, though.”

Phil read down the definition a little, his eyes narrowing the more he read. Everything Dan had quizzed him about was there – a relationship not defined by romance, but basically defined by everything else. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly running very dry.

Eventually, after a heavy moment of silence while Phil read the article and Dan watched him, Phil put down Dan’s phone and looked him straight in the eye. “Is this what you think we are?”

Dan recoiled, just a little. His eyes darted briefly to Phil’s face, but then dropped, his face flushing just slightly. “I mean, not if you don’t want to be. I just – I read it last night, and it rang such a bell, you know? So I googled, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“That’s what you were doing on your laptop all night? Ruminating about us?”

Dan grimaced. “Sounds pathetic when you put it like that.”

“Not really,” Phil disagreed. “I’d rather you’d just come and talked to me about it, though.”

“It was late, Phil, I wasn’t really thinking straight.” Dan sat up a bit, daring to meet Phil’s eyes again. “Besides, I’m talking about it now, aren’t I?”

Phil nodded slowly, unable to really dispute that. His mind was still reeling a little. Dan was right, after all – that definition almost exactly described their relationship.

He’d never even realised there could be a _word_ for it before.

“I mean,” Dan said hurriedly, “This doesn’t mean anything has to _change_ – not if you don’t want it to. I don’t mind if you don’t want to be committed to me long-term – I mean – it’s completely your decision, if you do want to go find something more romantic--”

Phil shot Dan a look. “Is that what you want?”

“Um.” Dan floundered for a minute. He looked away suddenly, the spot by his freckles reddening further. “…No, I don’t. I said earlier. I don’t know what more I could possibly get out of a relationship that I don’t already have with you.”

Phil felt a rush of warm affection at those words. He smiled broadly, reaching out to thumb Dan’s fringe out of his eyes. “Well, that’s good.”

Dan dared to glance at him again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t want anything else, either.” Phil ran his fingers once through Dan’s hair, then sat back to smile warmly at him. “There’s a reason I haven’t dated anyone the whole time I’ve known you.”

Dan was fighting back a huge smile. “Ok – ok, that’s – that’s amazing, honestly. But, um, there’s one more thing –”

“There always is with you.”

“—Hush,” Dan said absent-mindedly. “I just – to be absolutely clear. There is _nothing_ romantic between us. Right?”

Phil tilted his head, considering. Slowly, he shook his head. “Not – not quite. _Romantic_ isn’t the right word. What I have with you is so much _more_ than that.”

Dan looked at him questioningly.

“I mean,” Phil floundered for the right words, never as eloquent as Dan. “I mean – you’re my _best friend._ But more than that. It’s like – like you’re everything I need to balance out my life, and then a really warm hug on top of it all. You’re my partner, my roommate, my – my –“

“Partner, life-partner, couple?” Dan read from his phone with a chuckle. “Or _zucchini,_ this article suggests. Which, really, that’s hilarious.”

“Give me that.” Phil snatched the phone, read it through again, and then snickered. When he looked up, it was to Dan giving him a long, considering look.

“You’re right, is the thing,” Dan said when he caught Phil’s gaze. “To all of that. That’s exactly what you are to me.”

Phil grinned.

“And I kind of never want you to go away,” Dan added thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine a future without you in it, if I’m honest. Which is really kind of pathetic.”

“I think it’s _wonderful_ ,” Phil answered expansively, “And I whole-heartedly approve.”

Dan peeked up at him again, and this time he didn’t try to hide his grin. “So you’re ok with it?”

“With what?”

“With–” Dan glanced down, suddenly shy, and gestured lamely to his phone. “With _that._ With being in a QPR. With me.”

Phil’s grin grew wider with every word Dan spoke. “Honestly, Dan, I think we already have been for years.”

Dan snorted. He wriggled in his seat, eyes brightening, and shuffled a little bit closer to Phil. “So – so can we – um, like I said, I don’t really want you to go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Phil promised.

Dan gave a happy-sounding hum. “Good. But can we – just to be clear – for me, this QPR, it would be – it would be exclusive.”

Phil arched a brow.

“I mean, you’re my _only_ best friend,” Dan clarified, “And I’d want to keep it that way. And I’d want to keep you, too. I mean, if you ever want to go find romance or whatever--”

“I don’t,” Phil assured him, and there was a small, wicked smirk at his lips. “I know how jealous you get, don’t worry.”

Predictably, Dan sputtered out denials. Phil dissolved into laughter.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Dan grumbled. “I actually hate you and I don’t want anything to do with you in my life.”

“Oh, alright.” Phil couldn’t hold back his grin. “Guess I should move out, then, gather up my stuff–”

“Yeah.” Dan lifted an arm, and Phil took the opportunity to burrow underneath it. “We had a good run, but time to call it quits.”

“You’d last five minutes, without me and then I’d be getting desperate voicemails on my phone,” Phil mumbled against his hoody. “ _’Oh, Phil, no, don’t leave me! The darkness is attacking! There’s a moth in the lounge!’”_

“You’re worse than useless when it comes to that,” Dan huffed. “You want to put it in a glass and _name it_.”

“We need more pets.”

“Not allowed them here, remember?”

“I’m sure the landlord wouldn’t mind a moth.”

Dan jutted his chin into Phil’s shoulder. “Do you literally not know who you live with?”

Phil snickered. He stretched out languidly in Dan’s embrace, leaning comfortably against him, and smiled when Dan’s fingers sifted through his hair. Phil went to reach for his laptop, itching to resume the very important cat vines he’d been watching before Dan came in and turned his life upside-down again, but paused. “Just checking. Is that your crisis for today over?”

Dan chuckled delightedly. “Yeah, I’m good for today, I think. Though you’d better let me watch whatever’s on your laptop with you.”

“I wanted to show you earlier, but you were busy moping.” Phil hauled his laptop up onto his knees and nestled back against Dan again, tilting the screen so they could both see. “You’re going to _love_ this cat.”

Dan made a noise of acknowledgment, and he settled back into stroking Phil’s hair as Phil turned up the volume on his speakers.

Nothing had outwardly changed – that was true. But inwardly, they were suddenly secure in the newfound knowledge that they were each the most important person in the other’s life.

And perhaps they had already known that – perhaps it had always been obvious, from the moment they met – but it was still nice to have the confirmation. Neither of them was going anywhere. And neither of them wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> Place I got definitions of a QPR from: here: https://www.asexuality.org/wiki/index.php?title=Queerplatonic and here: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=queerplatonic
> 
> Some people fantasise about heavy sex, and then I fantasise about this. *shrugs* xD


End file.
